


Photograph

by Korrigan131



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korrigan131/pseuds/Korrigan131
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felipe carries a photograph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photograph

If anyone saw that you carried it in your wallet, people would ask questions. More questions than they already do, anyway. It’s a good thing then that it’s tucked away at the back, with cards from clubs and bars, old receipts, car park tickets, and those random pieces of paper that always seem to accumulate in wallets.  
  
Thinking about it, you have don’t even know why you have that photo, whether you printed it yourself, stole it from somewhere, cut it from a magazine or one of those team publications that you always seem to end up flicking through just to see if he’s made an appearance (and ignoring everything that’s written about you)... But just like when precisely you fell for him in the first place, you’ve never known the answer to that question. Everything to do with him has snuck up on you and caught you unawares, until you stopped for a second and realised that you have no idea how things ended up this way, how somehow, somewhere along the way, a man, Rob, your engineer, had become the person with whom you were hopelessly, totally in love.  
  
When you have a moment, when you’re a long way away from him and starting to worry that you’ll forget his face (even though you know that would be impossible - it’s as familiar to you as the sound of a V8, or the view across the Monte Carlo bay) you rummage through those worn-to-softness scraps and pull out the picture, its edges curled and tatty, sometimes for just a glance that still always brings a smile back to your face, or even (if you’re feeling indulgent) to stare and stroke your thumb across the glossy surface, as if he stood before you and you were swiping gently at the stubble of his cheek.  
  
It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to get close enough to do that though. These days there are fewer reasons to celebrate, fewer opportunities even to feel that adrenaline and elation and taste that champagne, let alone to wrap your arms around him when everyone’s watching and pretend just for a few seconds that those moments are what you can only wish they actually were.  
  
But you don’t forget. You’ll never forget. Races and tracks and even podiums may all blur together, but it feels like you remember every look he’s given you, every possibly over-familiar touch, and every single one of those almost infamous kisses, all with the vibrancy of oil on canvas, so much more than the faded watercolours of everything and everyone else. You wonder if he remembers the same way you do. If he’s as proud of you now as he was then (you can see it lighting up his eyes in the picture, the grin on his face brimming over with it), but you doubt it. You haven’t given him a reason to be in a long time.  
  
You were going to tell him, once upon a time. But you could never seem to find the right time. Winning your championship would have been perfect, there could never have been a better moment, but that didn’t exactly go to plan. So you decided to at your next win, when you’d put that delighted smile back on his face. Then even a podium would have done... And now it’s far too late – it’s coming to an end and there’s nothing you can do about it. Even if you had had a chance in the first place.  
  
“Alright, Felipe?”  
  
You snap your wallet shut, shoving it in your pocket hastily.  
  
“Yes, fine,” you say.  
  
“C’mon then, we’ve got a briefing now.” Rob’s smile is warm, genuine, kind, and slightly teasing, all those things you’ve always loved about it. “And as for that expression,” he adds, gently elbowing you as he chivvies you towards the meeting rooms, “I can tell you straight that whoever you’re pining over clearly isn’t worth it.”  
  
Oh, but he is. He most definitely is...


End file.
